Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Vehicle’s not slowing, S’arnt!” my brother called.
Then it was my cousin. “What the fuck is this guy doing?”
Then my second cousin. “There’s four occupants, and I see two AKs, S’arnt!”
And lastly, my uncle. “Take out the driver.”
I didn’t remember much after that. I think they fired. I prayed every night to a God that I wasn’t sure existed that they were at least able to defend themselves.
Those four men were the best of the best.
They were heroes.
They were my family.
And in the blink of an eye, as the car slammed into the front of the building, detonating on impact…
They were gone.
Gwen
With an infuriating loop of hold music playing in my ear, I paced the peeling linoleum of The Grille.
Yep. Two weeks later, it was still The Grille and not The Rosewood thanks to yet another contractor flaking on me. It was truly astounding how hard it was to pay someone to show up and work. I could have just left the door unlocked and let the local teenagers loot the place quicker—and most definitely cheaper.
A gentle rap at the door caught my attention. I glanced up to see Cooter—I mean, Lucille —standing on the other side, an umbrella held over her head. I barely recognized her with her long gray hair flowing over her shoulders. We’d been in contact a few times since that day at the diner. I’d texted to let her know her job was secure, and she’d called to let me know she’d spent one weekend at her daughter’s house before her “mouth breather of a son-in-law” had made her run for the hills. So she was back in town if I needed help sooner than planned. It was a kind offer, something that I was learning was not uncommon for her.
“Open up. I come bearing gifts,” she said, lifting a Tupperware container filled with what I could only identify as something chocolaty.
Unfortunately, the gift wasn’t the professional with a toolbelt that I needed or even the bottle of wine that I wanted, but I was never one to turn down chocolate.
After unlocking the door, I shoved it wide. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
She tipped her chin at the phone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You aren’t. I’m on never-ending hold with my contractor’s office. Come on in. Get out of that rain.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” With the click of a button, she closed her umbrella and left it outside the door.
She looked amazing in a stylish pale-pink T-shirt dress cinched at the waist with a thin brown belt. I, on the other hand, was in my best comfort chic of yoga pants and a stained T-shirt. Whatever. Tearing down bathroom stalls didn’t exactly require formalwear.
Her lip curled as she scanned the dining room. “You should probably fire that contractor when he answers. It doesn’t look like he’s done anything around here.”
“Oh, he hasn’t. That includes stepping foot inside the building for any reason other than to pick up the deposit check. It’s starting to feel like hiring a reliable contractor is nothing more than an urban legend.”
She carried the container to one of the tables I’d pushed into the corner and set it down. “That’s men for ya. Always playing games, even with their work ethic.”
“True, but I don’t know of any women in the construction business. Do you?”
“Nope. Don’t know any women with a dick, either, which is why I never got remarried.”
A loud laugh bubbled up my throat. “I like the way you think.”
“And I like the fact that you didn’t get all prickly when I said dick.”
I shrugged. “Half the world has one.”
Carefully, she took two of the stacked chairs off the table and set them on the floor. “And it sounds like all the contractors in this town are one. Have a sit-down and fill me in on this renovation runaround you’ve been dealing with. Call it sixth sense or female intuition, but I just knew you needed some of Coot’s famous brownies.”
Shifting the phone to my other ear, I lifted the edge of the Tupperware and peeked inside. “Oh, wow,” I moaned as I took in the most amazing brownies topped with caramel sauce, pecans, and white chocolate chips. “With the day I’ve had, I’m going to need at least three.”
“Girl, you can have ’em all. With a figure like yours, I was worried you’d be one of those calorie counters who can’t eat sugar or orgasm.”
I slanted my head. “Do those two things usually go together?”
“In my experience, almost exclusively.”
I laughed again, relishing in the much-needed moment of levity. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Anything for you, Boss.” She winked.
A woman’s voice finally cut through the elevator music. “Ms. Weaver?”
“Yes! I’m here.” I lifted my finger in Lucille’s direction, asking for a second. “Yes, I was on hold for Ryan Meeker.”